


she wears her head inside out

by justtothesea



Category: Bandom, Fall Out Boy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Always a Different Sex, Anal Fingering, Anal Play, Bottom Patrick Stump, F/M, Pegging, Porn with Feelings, Rimming, Strap-Ons, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-01
Updated: 2019-03-01
Packaged: 2019-11-07 13:19:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17961311
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justtothesea/pseuds/justtothesea
Summary: In my docs this is titled [always-a-girl!Pete rims and pegs the shit outta Patrick, no regrets!!] I mean, I have some regrets, this may or may not be one.“You're such a klepto with my shit, like a sexy raccoon turned human,” he tells her, Pete laughs and pulls his hand under her shirt.“Would you still fuck me if I was a raccoon, Patrick?” She bats her eyes at him, mirth and want and something vulnerable simmering just under the surface.Patrick smirks, his hand skimming over her waist and moving higher. “If you're a raccoon, I'm a raccoon."





	she wears her head inside out

**Author's Note:**

> Pete's new apartment is softly lit and adorned with boxes, tacky mustard wallpaper, and Joe's mom's big old couch. Patrick kind of loves it here. He's about to say so as he joins Pete on it, when he notices the shirt she's wearing. “Ah, so it _was_ stolen, I thought I accidentally Marie Kondo'd that thing last week.”

“I _borrowed_ it, not stole, hey,” Pete huffs, grabbing at his waist. Patrick raises an eyebrow, but does gently straddle her lap at her beckoning.

“I want it to still be something you wear too, so it keeps that authentic Stump aroma for when I borrow it.” She skims her hands down his back and cups his ass through his jeans. Patrick bites his lip, but tries not to rest too much of his weight on her lap; even though he knows Pete can handle it, their relationship is new and he's still a little self-conscious.

Because he looks like, well, _him_ , and Pete's always been movie star-hot. Even now, wearing sweats and Patrick's old ELO shirt, with her greasy black hair and day old half-rubbed off eyeliner -- actually _especially_ now.

He rubs her arm, the bump of tattooed muscle twitching under his hand. “You're such a klepto with my shit, like a sexy raccoon turned human,” he tells her and she laughs and pulls his hand under her shirt.

“Would you still fuck me if I was a raccoon, Patrick?” Pete bats her eyes, looking up at him with mirth and want and something vulnerable simmering just under the surface.

Patrick smirks, his hand skimming over her waist and moving higher. “If you're a raccoon, I'm a raccoon,” he quotes, grinning when she groans.

“Notebook quotes are way overdone.” Pete shakes her head. “You gotta bust out some Twilight for me, baby.”

“I know what you are,” Patrick intones dutifully, lowering his brows.

“Say it,” Pete says, soft and dramatic.

“Sexy raccoon,” Patrick laughs, and Pete kisses his neck happily, lingering enough that Patrick's dick decides to get in on the moment. And by the sudden smile on her face, Pete notices.

“Hey, quick question,” She breathes against his ear, her voice feather-light like a touch, “you liked that thing we tried the other night, right?”

Patrick tenses in her arms, his warm hands still on the skin of her ribs. “You mean when we, you, um --” he leans back, meeting her eye as she nods. He bites his lip, blushing as he says, quietly, “Yeah? You know I did.”

She grins, wide and real, as she slides her hand down the back of his pants and beneath his underwear. “Good,” she murmurs, squeezing the flesh of his butt, “‘Cause there's something I _really_ wanna do to you.”

*

Pete pulls his ass up, her thumbs spreading his cheeks as she prods at his hole with her tongue.

“Ungh, fuck,” she mouths against him, looking up at the naked expanse of Patrick's back. “You're so fucking hot, baby.” she licks him, a long stripe from his balls to the base of his spine. “You taste so sweet.”

“I taste like soap and skin, you mean,” Patrick corrects her, feeling embarrassed at being so exposed. He managed to keep his peach polo on at least.

“Hints of that,” Pete giggles, her heated words fanning over his balls, “but you're sweet all over Rickster, like golden sugar and honey.”

“Shut the fuck-- _ah_ ,” Patrick chokes as she presses her lips against his rim, giving it a lingering kiss.

“Dunno why people compare eating ice cream to sucking dick,” Pete remarks nonsensically as she pulls away, smacking his ass playfully with the palm of her hand and squeezing a handful. “It's _way_ more like eating someone out,” her voice is low, hot breath panting against Patrick's skin, “Like, licking into the cone, getting my mouth all sticky and messy,” her tongue traces a pattern on the inside of his thigh, and Patrick can picture her grin as she says, “biting into it.”

“Can't believe I regularly have sex with you,” Patrick sighs affectionately, trying to push back into her teasing touches, “You're so weird and gross.”

“And you're a hot asshole,” Pete retaliates gleefully, her finger rubbing over his hole now, the dry tip dragging on the edge, “In more ways than one. God, I've been thinking about this for _days_ , of fucking you,” her breath sends tingle down Patrick's spine, “you have no idea how many times I got off on the idea, Patrick. How much of a turn on fucking you is.”

“It would be,” Patrick gets out, peering over his shoulder at her, “if you were actually doing it and not just running your mouth.”

Pete snorts, a profoundly unsexy sound that makes Patrick's cock jump, because he's been physically conditioned to find every stupid thing Pete does a turn on. Then Pete pushes her tongue into him in one go, past the tight ring of muscle, and Patrick, like ice cream, fucking melts.

“ _Fuck_ , you fucking asshole you did that on purpose,” Patrick whimpers into her pillow, trying to keep his hips still. “I fucking hate you, Wentz.”

Pete laughs, or tries her best to seeing as her face is currently squished between Patrick's ass cheeks. She hums and settles her teeth and lips against his skin, scraping soft flesh every so often as she drives her tongue in and out. Patrick reaches beneath himself and grabs his dick, squeezing his eyes shut as her finger pushes in alongside her damn tongue.

“You're so damn tight, 'Trick,” Pete purrs, and her thumbs press into the back of his thighs, “hot and tight, fuck.”

“Pete, Pete, fuck me, fuck me,” Patrick pants, unashamedly needy. He loves getting fucked, Pete doesn't even know how much just yet.

Though, she initiated it the first (and until now, only) time. Last Tuesday, when she was sucking his dick at the end of an old Crazy Ex-Girlfriend episode, Pete decided to slide a finger into his ass. It took all of Patrick's will not to come right then and there. By the end Pete had three fingers stuffed into his hole, watching him intently as she drizzled spit over her fingers to keep the friction slick as Patrick writhed out his orgasm.

So yeah, Patrick loves getting fucked. On a good day he also _really_ loves Pete which is a monumental bonus.

“Yeah, 'm gonna fuck you so good, baby,” Pete says now, pushing in another finger and spreading him wide before licking between them, her touch tingling on that stretch of skin. A sweet kind of itch. “Gonna fuck you so damn open, Patrick, you'll feel it for weeks.”

“Yes! Fuck, Pete _please_.”

His back is beginning to ache from how arched he is, his fingers and the side of his face pressed hard into the soft armchair while he pushes his ass into her face and hands.

“You should see yourself, ‘Trick,” Pete murmurs between filthy wet kisses, “gotta record you like this sometime. To keep.”

Patrick is so close, moaning as he fucks into his hand and her mouth once it stops with the words. Just another second, another finger, another--!

Pete abruptly pulls away, taking her hands and tongue with her as she leaps off the couch. Patrick's hips collapse, his ass left sore and longing, and his dick feeling quite betrayed. He's going to kill Pete.

“I'm going to kill you,” he seethes, his hole clenches around nothing. Teased and empty.

“Whatever, you're gonna want to marry me.” Pete snorts again, the sound of her running to her room echoes in the mostly empty apartment. She returns after a moment, standing behind the couch sans-pants, with Patrick’s well-worn ELO shirt barely covering her thighs. Patrick rolls onto his back to look up at her properly.

“I seriously doubt it if you leave me blue-balled again -- _oh_ ,” Patrick stops as she lifts up her shirt, revealing a pink latex dildo sticking up against her stomach, and the adjustable straps sitting loosely on her hips.

“Yeah _oh._ ” Pete rolls her eyes, fastening the straps and pulling out a tube of lube held under her armpit. She pops it open and coats her hand. “See, that's why you're the bod and I'm the brains of this whole operation, Patrick.”

Patrick _sorely_ disagrees with that assessment, on multiple levels, but he can't seem to finish or voice that thought when she's kneeling on the couch between his legs.

Pete has never been gentle in any facet of her life, she's constantly getting (and causing) bruises and scars from jumping into shit before thinking. So Patrick is mostly unsurprised when she sticks two wet fingers into him, jabbing them hard and fast until his hips grudgingly move into it.

"You just," Patrick starts, then drops his head back down, giving in. " _Ugh._ "

“Everything about you is music,” Pete sighs dreamily, the pad of her thumb tracing over the furled skin of his stretched hole, twitching under her touch.

Patrick doesn’t even mind that she’s willfully ignoring his cock at this point. Pete leans down to kiss him, her dirty mouth fast and sweet. “You have rhythm everywhere, Patrick, your lips, your throat, your hips.” She kisses down his chest, tugging at the collar of his shirt. “ _Heart._ You think if I fuck you I’ll keep some of that music on my fingers?”

“Dunno,” Patrick says, because he really never knows what to say when she talks about him like this, like he’s the answer to an equation that he can’t understand. “I think if you fuck me,” he tries, licking his lips and tasting them both, “you’ll, uh, find out.”

Pete grins and kisses him again while her fingers sink deeper, watching Patrick with eager eyes, he knows she wants to make this good for him. Pete's flawed, but she commits to the bone, it's one of her more frustrating qualities, as well as something Patrick adores about her.

"Guess I will." 

The dildo isn’t _grotesquely_ big, it's above average at least, Patrick tries to reason as he feels it pressing against his thigh. It's a little wide and a little long, maybe on the larger side of the penises-he's-taken scale. He wonders what Pete was thinking when she secretly shopped for it.

Patrick is totally relieved and not nervous _at all_ , though. It’s just shiny rubber glistening with lube, after all. Just pink plastic and black straps barely concealing Pete’s hastily shaven pussy from view. Patrick looks up at her, with her shaggy, uneven bob, and earnest, hungry eyes, and mouth that’s good for _far_ too many things. She's beautiful in so many ways, and Patrick has always been doomed, he thinks, and always been more than okay with that.

Pete smirks at him like his thoughts are too loud, and her prodding fingers slow a little.

“Like what you see, Patrick?” She laughs, and Patrick in answer reaches beneath her shirt to tweak her nipple gently the way she likes. “Oh, you play _dirty_ , Mister Stump.”

She takes her fingers out of his ass and pushes his knees up to his chest, leaving him exposed as she haphazardly slathers more lube on the toy.

Patrick's hand’s still on her breast as she lines herself up, squeezing the soft flesh lightly, nervously. Pete's breasts are pointy and a decent handful. She often jokes that she hardly has tits to even necessitate a bra most of the time, but Patrick likes them, how they feel in his hands and how they suit her body. Pete's nipples are pierced but she's not wearing any rings tonight, thank God, or Patrick would come as soon as he felt them.

“You're beautiful,” Patrick says softly, looking into her eyes as she gasps at his touch. “Crazy and so, so beautiful. _Pete_.”

Patrick's thumb brushes over the beauty mark that he knows is just beneath her right nipple, while his other hand grasps at her hip.

“How much do you love me?” Pete grins, the tip of the toy poking into his sensitive flesh.

Patrick groans, exasperated, while his dick weeps treacherously onto his stomach. He reaches down and grabs Pete’s ass, clutching hard as he swings a leg over her hip and lifts himself, savouring the burning stretch as he impales himself onto her.

“This much,” he murmurs into Pete's hair as she gasps and comes crashing down.

“ _Ooh,_ " Pete laughs, "you're fucking amazing, 'Rick,” she wiggles her hips till she's flush against him, smiling widely.

Pete likes to laugh a lot during sex. The first time Patrick went down on her (just a month ago) she threw her head back and giggled so hard and for so long that he was almost insulted. But a week of tantric sex everywhere on the bus proved that he had no reason to be. That’s just how Pete is; dirty, jokey, rough, self-hating, and usually (if her meds were balanced) horny - about as horny as Patrick guessed she would be.

He remembers all the times she propositioned him over the years, and how almost all those times he thought they were jokes.

Like: “ _If your voice could fuck, P.Stumph, I’d hit it,_ ” and, “ _Oh fuck her, she's an idiot. You're **my** type, dude. I would totally have sex with you,_” and, “ _I'd kiss you, y'know. If I wasn't so scared of fucking you up,_ ” to, “ _Hey ‘Trick, you were really hot tonight, wanna get outta here?_ ” and lastly, “ _No joke, you can hate me later, I just really need to suck your dick right fucking now--_ ”.

That last one was the straw that broke the camel's back, what with how Pete got down on her knees and mouthed it against his crotch after a show.

“Earth to Pattycakes,” Pete says softly against his ear, her fingers pushing bruises into his hips. “Can I move now?”

Patrick’s heart flutters, he rubs an affectionate hand down her back. Pete's not gentle, but she can be soft sometimes. “You’re asking?”

“Well, yeah,” Pete says with a small smile, her hair falling into her warm brown eyes, “Gotta be gentle on your first time, Tricky.”

“It’s not though,” Patrick blurts and instantly inwardly scolds himself, hating the way Pete's gaze drops for a short-but-too-long moment until she looks up and smiles at him again.

“It’s your first time with _me_ ,” She states with a devilish grin, and rolls her hips so perfectly that Patrick can’t contain his stupid moan. “So it's the one that counts.” She does it again, and again, slow and deep.

“Oh shit,” Patrick breathes, his ankle wrapped around her thigh to keep her close. “I fucking love you, Pete.”

Pete shivers above him, her hands clenching in fists beside Patrick's head as her body slams into his. Patrick's hand drops off the couch, his body sliding up with each thrust.

“Say it again,” Pete insists, her eyes dark.

“You make zero fucking sense, you drive me up the wall sometimes and I _love you_. So much,” Patrick grunts, blushing from Pete's intense gaze. His heart thuds loudly at her soft smile, but his body wants friction. Patrick's heel digs into the back of her thighs, urging her to go faster and harder. “Now fuck me, fuck me, _fuck. Pete_.”

Pete pulls back in surprise, her movements completely halting as she stays buried all the way in. Patrick whimpers at the loss of rhythm. 

“God, look at you,” Pete utters, staring at him with something like awe, “You really _like_ being fucked, don't you? I _knew_ it, knew you wanted this. You're practically _gagging_ for me to go harder.” 

Patrick refuses to feel embarrassed with a plastic cock up his ass, but he can't help how his skin flushes even more at her appraising gaze, like she's seeing him with new eyes. His hole clenches and Pete looks down between them, traces a finger beneath his balls to his stretched rim. 

“Almost wish I had a real cock now,” She confesses softly, “Wish I could feel myself inside, how tight you are around me. Wanna fill you up with come --” 

“There are toys for that,” Patrick interjects breathlessly, still working his pelvis up to get some friction, but Pete goes on talking. 

“-- So I can push it back in with every, little, fuck,” she punctuates the last with maddeningly small thrusts. “I want to claim you, Patrick, you know that? Ruin your ass for any cock but _mine_.” Pete's tone is light, but Patrick can read her beneath the words, that hidden insecurity. 

“There aren't any others,” Patrick tells her, rocking his hips up against hers still. “No dick or otherwise could ever compare, you're-you're _Pete_ ,” he pushes himself forward on his elbow, runs his fingers over the thorns at her neck and rests his shaky hand on the back of her head. “Everything about me is already yours, you dumbass.” Pete looks at him with wide eyes, and Patrick kisses her, filthy and slow, tasting himself on her tongue. 

Pretty soon, Pete begins to grin into the kiss, then after a moment abruptly pulls out, leaving Patrick completely bereft as she sits up. 

“What the hell--?” 

“Just come _here_.” She grabs at him, urging him onto her lap. Patrick doesn't even have time to get properly mad. He just does as Pete says, because when could he ever not. 

"You dick," Patrick mutters, but Pete doesn't seem to notice or care, hugging him close.

“Look how you just take it, _fuck_ ,” she mouths against his chest through his shirt as she lines the toy up and slides back in. “You’re so fucking beautiful like this, 'Rick. So... Christ. Ride me, c'mon." 

Patrick moves down slowly, conscious of keeping most of his weight off her. Pete can thrust up into him more steadily in this position, hitting that spot inside him more often than not and driving Patrick crazy. Patrick's hands find her breasts, squeezing the soft handfuls beneath her shirt and loving the way her nipples strain stiffly against his palm, how it makes Pete moan and fuck up faster. 

“ _Fuck_ , Pete, yes like that,” Patrick breathes, “you’re so fuck-good, so, so hot.” 

His thumbs drag over her nipples right as Pete's knuckles brush against his dick. The head leaks woefully onto her wrist as she grasps it for just a moment before sliding her fingers down to his hole again. Patrick grabs her hair, tips Pete's head back and moans into her collarbone, and Pete sighs a laugh, sweet and breathless. 

Pete shoves three fingers in on the next thrust, fucking her fingers into his hole alongside the dildo. She grins widely as Patrick pulls back to glare at her. 

“Oh, you bitch,” Patrick pants, his cock twitches, and he fists himself hard to keep from coming. 

Pete says nothing, just smirks and grabs his thigh, pushes him down onto her fingers and fake cock. “Quit holding back,” she murmurs into the side of his neck, “Just fucking _sit_ on me, already, 'Trick. _Sit_.” 

Patrick doesn't know why he listens, but he does. His ass pressing down hard into her lap. His weight easing into her completely. He feels so fucking _full_ like this. He almost can't handle it. He palms Pete's tits with one hand and grabs his cock with his other as he grinds himself down. Pete is so deep inside of him and he loves it. 

“Fuck, fuck,” Patrick grunts. His hand sliding up from Pete's breast to her neck, bringing their mouths together as he leans down. “Pete, 'm gonna come, gonna…” 

"Yeah." Pete's fingers stretch apart inside him, curling against hot flesh as the dildo pistons alongside them. “With me inside,” She says against his mouth, wet and open. “Wanna feel you on my fingers, fucking yourself on my cock. You're so fucking _pretty_ like this, Patrick.” 

“Ah--shit, _Pete_ ,” Patrick moans and he can't hold back any longer, sitting hard as he jerks his cock, slippery and straining when he finally comes into his hand. His thigh spasms as his dick spurts between them, staining the bottom of their shirts. Patrick rocks his ass into Pete's lap. 

He collapses onto her and Pete pulls her fingers out, rubbing over the sensitive stretched flesh of his hole. 

“Want me to leave it inside?” Pete asks Patrick once he's finally caught his breath. 

He shudders at the idea, his softening cock twitching weakly as he nods. Pete grins and unfastens the straps at her side, reaching down to touch herself with a soft sigh. 

“Mm, I'm right there.” She takes Patrick's limp hand and grinds against it, his knuckle rubbing hard against Pete's clit. “Coulda come just watching you, but wanted you to touch me.” 

“You want my mouth?” Patrick asks, spent as he is, he likes giving head almost as much as getting fucked. He replaces his knuckle with his thumb, and bites his bottom lip, looking down at her. 

Pete grabs his wrist, swearing as she squirms under him. “No, I'm, I'm-- ungh,” She moans, her body convulsing as she comes. She releases Patrick's hand and hugs his waist, her body shivering against his. “You can't just _say that_ ,” Pete huffs against his neck, still riding out the orgasm on his hand. “Raincheck on the offer though, in like, two minutes.” 

Patrick laughs, and reaches behind himself to carefully slide the dildo out of his ass, wincing. “You were a little ambitious,” he says, tossing the thing aside and looking down at her. 

“Well, I had a pretty good hunch that you'd like it,” Pete tells him, rubbing his back, “and figured if you didn't you'd just tell me to fuck off.” 

Patrick concedes. “That's pretty true,” he says, tugging on Pete's messy hair affectionately. 

“Plus,” Pete adds with a playful smile, “I really wanted to ruin that booty.” With that, she gives him a slap on the ass, laughing at Patrick's growl. 

"Such a bitch." Patrick bites her shoulder and Pete gasps, soft and high. Pretty.

“Oh, has it been five minutes already?” 

“Slap my ass again and it'll be five centuries, Wentz.” Patrick glares at her but Pete waves him off. 

“Love it when you talk dirty to me, Stump,” she says, playful at first, but then Pete's eyes go dark, and her tone changes so suddenly that Patrick almost misses it. “...Probably say a lot of stuff you don't mean when you're in the mood, though.” 

“I meant what I said,” Patrick says awkwardly over Pete's teasing words and thin smile. “During, I mean, not the five centuries part. I love you, and I meant it,” Something in her eyes softens, and she leans forward and holds Patrick close, her cheek pressed to his chest. He can feel her smile. “I'll always mean it.” 

“Say it again,” Pete whispers, holding tightly, and Patrick happily does. 

**Author's Note:**

> title is from [didi (my doe part 2) by the matches](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FNoybZvC2Ao). thanks for reading! <3 <3 <3  
> [tumblr](https://justtothesea.tumblr.com) | [peterick recs list](https://sites.google.com/site/petericklist/recs) :)


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